The Phoenix and the Serpent
by JK Ashavah
Summary: A young man struggles each day with a battle within. He is one of the pawns in the battle against Lord Voldemort - a spy. NOW COMPLETE.
1. The Battle

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the characters, places or situations of the Harry Potter universe, nor am I affiliated with those who do (J. K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Publishing Plc, Scholastic Books and Warner Brothers). I am making no money from this fic.

**Summary: **Every day a battle takes place within you between good and evil. The phoenix and the serpent are fighting inside, each struggling to be the one that emerges triumphant, clutching your soul. Welcome to my world.

**Author's Note: **This will be a miniseries, with 3 or 4 chapters. Thanks to Chupacabra, Lemming, MagicianX, Wren and Wicky for all your help. 

**The Phoenix and the Serpent**

**By: JK**

****

**Part One: The Battle**

The cold, blank faces of my companions were all that greeted me as the familiar dark clearing slowly appeared, changing gradually from blackness into startling clarity. Glancing quickly at my surroundings, my eyes flicking around their ring from behind my cold, impassive mask, I saw that my fellow Death Eaters were quicker than me; I was the last to Apparate into the close circle. Yet again.

I turned and strode quickly to my place, keeping my eyes downcast in the accepted manner, showing my supposed contrition to my lord. I quickly found my place amongst the cold, faceless mass of the Death Eaters and stood obediently, the eyes behind my expressionless mask flicking around the circle, observing the stances and actions of my companions. That is something I have become skilled at. Observing without being observed. Melting into the background. Hiding in corners. Watching, always watching.

Lucius Malfoy was worried. After my long years of association with him, I have become able to recognise his moods with a surprising accuracy; he would be startled to realise that anyone could read him when he tried to be incomprehensible. Little does he truly know about me. If he really knew me, he would have been much more careful.

When Lucius was worried, it was time for me to be too. I learned that almost immediately. I learned so much quickly. It makes sense, I suppose. After all, if you live in constant fear of death, you're going to try and get all the information you can, to keep yourself alive. That's simply survival instinct.

I flicked my gaze around the gathered Death Eaters, watching for any signs of unease amongst the others. It was there, to be easily found if I only looked. Avery was shifting nervously in his spot; Wormtail, constantly fidgeting while his eyes roamed the circle as mine did; Crabbe and Goyle stood in their positions next to Lucius, uncertainty showing in their stances. All was not well with my companions.

Lord Voldemort stepped forward. Lucius shifted nervously in his place, another sign of his unease.

"So," my lord began, his voice high-pitched and as cold as Hell. I say as cold as Hell because that is what it would be to me, like that of the Vikings hundreds of years ago: the deepest, coldest extremity of an icy world. I could not help, even then, shivering at the sound of Voldemort's speech. He is exactly like a serpent. A serpent I have devoted my life to.

"You have failed me. All of you." A shudder ran through the circle, and I knew what was foremost in each Death Eater's mind. The same thing as in mine. The Cruciatus curse, or the final, terrible Avada Kedavra. "Do you deny it?" Voldemort hissed, his red, livid eyes searching the eyes and souls of each of his servants.

"I am sorry, my lord! The boy is too well guarded!" Avery fell to his knees, crying out, begging for his pitiful skin to be saved. He would have done better to remain silent. That is almost always so.

"Too well guarded, Avery?" Voldemort asked, his voice high and mocking as he turned those empty, pitiless eyes on his servant. Avery cringed, and Voldemort raised his wand. I closed my eyes so I would not have to see Avery's pain yet again. I heard the word from my lord, and the Death Eater's scream chilled my blood.

"Do not make excuses!" Voldemort hissed. "Is it possible that the Muggle-lover Dumbledore is too much for you?" Contempt was plain in his voice, and I felt a shudder run through the circle like a ripple through a disturbed pond, growing as it reached each frightened member of the ring. Lord Voldemort watched silently, an unpleasant smile playing across his face. He seemed pleased at the fear he was instilling in his followers. Suddenly he turned, in a swirl of black.

"You!" He pointed his long, cold finger straight at me. Blood pounded in my ears, and my muscles began to tremble. I could feel my heartbeat rising and hear the sharp hissing of my quickened breathing. Whenever I was required to act my part as a Death Eater it was the same. Sweat, nerves and most terrible, fear. "You know his actions! Tell us his movements!"

I could not possibly refuse. Stepping forward from my place in the ring and into open space, encircled by my fellow Death Eaters, I prepared to speak, mentally rehearsing my role.

"The ..." The word barely escaped my lips. I cleared my throat, took a deep breath and continued, hoping for my voice to remain steady. "He is calling the Order of the Phoenix together more often. Through careful observation of their movements," I kept my eyes downcast for safety; though I could see no real benefit to it, it felt more secure, "I have seen that they are indeed on our trail, but they have not uncovered our plans on Harry Potter's life or to release the Dementors."

Voldemort laughed.

"So, even with your incompetence," he said, addressing the entire circle, "we are not discovered. See to it," he hissed sharply, "that you do not fail again. Be gone!"

Lucius met my eyes across the ring. With a feeling of trepidation, I knew I would have to wait for him to speak with me. Still trembling from my encounter with the Dark Lord, I waited until he strode to my side.

"So, Potter's protection has not yet been altered?"

I shook my head, carefully avoiding Lucius' gaze while trying to avoid his suspicion. I pride myself on avoiding suspicion, both from him and others. That's another survival skill I have acquired.

"Good. You have done well. Do not fail me." Lucius spoke the last sentence with an icy threat clear in his tone. He sponsored me into the Death Eaters; he fears he will lose face if I fail, and well I knwo it. The number of times I had to endure the Cruciatus Curse from him because of failure ... I do not know. I've lost count.

"Yes, sir," I said respectfully, inclining my head slightly. I watched as Lucius Apparated away, then turned myself to do the same. He was probably expecting me at his mansion. I, however, had other plans. I tore off my mask, hiding it deep within my cloak so I would not be conspicuous where I was going. Then I turned and Apparated. But not to Malfoy Manor. No. The serpent had not won me over.

* * *

Hogsmeade was the same as it ever was. It's hardly likely that it would have changed just on account of the disruptions in my life, but it was still strange to see something that remained unaltered when my entire life had changed so dramatically since Lord Voldemort was resurrected.

A peaceful stroll through the streets of Hogsmeade would have been wonderful. I, however, had no time for such pleasures. Without even knowing the time, I could tell I was already rather late; Lord Voldemort's meeting had delayed my plans for the day. He, of course, took precedence over anything else I may have wanted to do - would you rather live out a lovely, relaxing day or save your own life?

I walked quickly through the town, glancing nervously from side to side. Luckily, a young man in a black cloak and robes did not stand out among the people of the town. Evading notice, I wound my way to Hogwarts and slipped inside the castle.

Drawing the dark hood over my head, hiding my face, I wove through the maze of corridors that I still remembered from my own time there, until I finally reached Dumbledore's office. Whispering the password, I watched as the gargoyle leapt aside. I crept silently up the staircase, listening carefully for sounds of the meeting.

"Lucius Malfoy is planning ... What, we cannot tell." The voice that filtered quietly to me through the door was one I recognised - Nouvelle, the Defence professor, an ex-Auror, and quite capable, even if she despised me. As I reached the top, I heard another voice - Remus Lupin's.

"As Professor Nouvelle says, Death Eater activity has been slowly increasing. They are scheming, but we cannot tell to what ends."

I reached out my hand, rapping sharply on the door.

"Password!" Another voice I knew. The Head of the Aurors' Office.

"Never disturb a burning phoenix," I muttered through the timber, and the door opened. I stepped into the room.

The atmosphere in Dumbledore's office was far from that in the tight ring of cruel Death Eaters. Members of the Order of the Phoenix were either seated in chairs or sprawled on most available surfaces. The portraits of previous headmasters and mistresses seemed unable to sleep; they were all awake, and several were surveying the ragtag company assembled in the office with an air of disapproval.

Such a ragtag company. The others all looked so relaxed, so ... at ease, as if they were doing nothing more consequential than simply planning a dinner party, not plotting the downfall of the most terrible Dark wizard in a century. They had expressions ranging from easygoing to slightly concerned, but no one looked particularly perturbed by the feat of defeating Voldemort. They wore clothes that ranged from Bill Weasley's Muggle outfit and his brother Charlie's protective leather to Lupin's patched and Nouvelle's tidy robes. No one was dressed to impress, and there was no uniform. The relaxed air was refreshing.

They were all so different, but they all had something in common. Much as the portraits may have disliked them, the Order of the Phoenix are the most potent weapon Dumbledore has against Lord Voldemort. The force is small and untrained, but in it are the best fighters one could hope to find, each of us selected for commitment, skill and willingness, and each of us a deadly weapon, be it in the field; researching; providing knowledge of curses, hexes and spells; or spying. That was my job.

The order was created in Voldemort's first rise - few people know how or when. Very few people are even aware of its existence. Dumbledore called together a few of his most trusted associates. Few of the earlier members of the order are still in it. Many of them have died, most commonly killed in action.

Slowly, the group grew. Soon it included Lily and James Potter, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, and for a short while, Peter Pettigrew. Now it has expanded even more, to include the members from the first rising _and_ new recruits. Each member has a code name, and each of them, with the exception of those who operate as spies, has a small piece of jewellery shaped like a phoenix, which has a stone in it that changes colour when they are needed at a meeting. It was all so brilliant, and I was in on it.

Lord Voldemort knew I had access to information about the movements of the Order of the Phoenix. Little did he guess why. Dumbledore would give me scraps of information with which to feed the greedy Dark lord. It was the most difficult challenge I had ever faced. N.E.W.T.s faded into insignificance; playing Quidditch against Gryffindor was the easiest task imaginable by comparison. Feed Lord Voldemort too much information, and he would grow suspicious of me, as well as knowing the Order's every move. Feed him too little, and he would recognise me as a traitor. That recognition was never one I had looked forward to.

"I apologise for my lateness," I began awkwardly, but Dumbledore waved aside my apologies, gesturing around the crowded office.

"Pull up some floor," Bill Weasley said, smiling at me. I nodded tersely, taking his advice and a place between Lupin and Nouvelle.

"Now." Dumbledore spoke softly, his eyes scanning his troops. "We know that the Death Eaters are planning. Their movements indicate a major action begin carried out. Does anybody," he shot a piercing glance at me, "have any further information?"

Accepting my cue, I stood. Feeling every eye in the room turn to me, I fixed my own gaze on Dumbledore's.

"They have two plans," I began, much calmer than when I was facing Lord Voldemort. After all, Dumbledore was hardly likely to kill me for a simple mistake. "They are plotting to kill Harry Potter, and to break open Azkaban by recruiting the Dementors." There was silence, shattered only by a spluttering noise from the large black dog on the floor that I knew was Sirius Black. Lupin jabbed him with an elbow, and he seemed to regain what little composure he ever had.

"I see," Dumbledore said, his pale blue eyes fixed on mine. He paused for a moment, then searched the gaze of every member of the Order of the Phoenix. I could tell from his expression that he had feared as much, for his eyes were as troubled as the ocean waters in a storm. "Some of you are to continue with your current tasks. However, I would like Jupiter and Lunar to work together to develop ideas to combat the breaking open of Azkaban. Little Tern and Diamond, you are to ensure Harry's protection, by any means possible. Those of you working in the field, do your best to uncover the Death Eaters' plans."

I did not know all the code names, but I knew enough. Black and Lupin were checking out the possibilities for keeping Azkaban safe. It made sense. After all, who knew more about Azkaban than Black? And Nouvelle was one of those nominated to protect Potter. Also sensible. As a professor, and one of Potter's trusted friends, it would be easy for her.

Me? It seemed I was to continue with my previous job, gathering all information I could. Lord Voldemort was always very clever and secretive about his schemes. He told each Death Eater their part individually, so no-one, except perhaps Lucius Malfoy, his right hand man, knew the entire plot.

Lucius was Voldemort's one weakness, and that weakness was one that _had_ to be exploited.

* * *


	2. The Deception

Untitled Document

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the characters, places or situations of the Harry Potter universe, nor am I affiliated with those who do (J. K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Publishing Plc, Scholastic Books and Warner Brothers). I am making no money from this fic.

**Author's Note:** Here's Part Two, at last. I'm very sorry about the wait. Please enjoy. :-) Major thanks, as always, go to Elanor Gamgee for being a wonderful beta reader.

**Part Two: The Deception**

Their meeting over, the members of the Order of the Phoenix began to slowly dissipate, each going to their own homes or workplaces, or, like me, to a mission. Mine was not, however, one like any of theirs.

I arose from my spot on the floor, throwing an envious glance around the room. Lupin looked as though he wanted to speak with me, but I ignored him and strode to the door. As I reached for the handle, I felt a gentle hand on my arm.

I turned, reluctantly, and found myself facing the Head of the Aurors' Office. I smiled politely and raised an eyebrow at him. He returned the smile, though in a kinder way, and spoke softly.

"Be careful. Your job is getting more dangerous."

I watched him, eyebrow still elevated. He met my emotionless expression with one of concern.

"I am well aware of the dangers of the role I have undertaken," I replied icily.

"I know what you know. Just watch out. Watch Lucius especially."

I nodded my thanks and turned in a swirl of robes, striding irritably out of the door and down the staircase. That he could presume ... But he did have the right, of course.

They've all done their best to be accepting, to take me in. Dumbledore accepted me so easily. Everyone wants to feel sorry for a poor Slytherin who doesn't want to be evil. Everyone, that is, except the Death Eaters.

They make special provisions, turning me into some sort of charity case, good only for pity. Dumbledore has had the Head of Aurors pull rank to prevent me being arrested, and if I ever am, I am to be released without charges. How nice. So there's one less group of people fighting to have my skin. Not that I am safe, by any means. No-one knows they're not supposed to arrest me, and young Aurors in the heat of battle ...

I pulled my hood close around my face and strode through the corridors, cloak billowing behind me. I rounded a corner and found myself staring straight at Harry Potter, at Hogwarts for his holidays.

The sight startled me, and I paused for a moment. Here was the boy who was the objective of Lord Voldemort's ambitions, the goal of the Death Eaters' plans. And he stood laughing in a corridor, with Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger on either side of him. Did he have no concept of the danger was in, of the trouble he had caused for me and the others in the Order of the Phoenix?

No, of course not. Oh, he knew, of course, that Voldemort was after him, but he had, and still has, simply no notion of the amount of trouble Dumbledore - in fact, almost the entire Ministry as well - go to in order to preserve his life. He is important, somehow, otherwise Voldemort would not have wanted him to start with.

Now, Voldemort is driven by a rage and lust for revenge. No one has ever managed to survive a direct attack by him before, and now Potter has done it several times. That in itself is a bad prospect for his survival.

The dedication of the Phoenixes and the leadership of Dumbledore could still win, of course. That is what we fight for.

I paused, staring at Potter, until he turned to me. I don't know if he recognised me. Our eyes met for a brief moment, then I pushed past him and strode away, telling myself angrily that the very last thing I needed was to allow Potter to distract me, when so many things did already, and a moment's lapse in concentration at the wrong moment could easily mean death.

I returned to Hogsmeade, knowing with a sick certainty what I needed to do next. It was one of the things I feared worst - facing Lucius Malfoy. Because he sponsored me, he seemed to think it was his duty to ensure that I performed my Death Eater duties properly.

So he watched me carefully whenever I was near. He thinks he knows me, and that has always been to his advantage. He could use our past links to summon me to Malfoy Manor, where he would observe me, talk with me, take me on missions.

Lucius is not only dangerous because he is Lord Voldemort's right hand man. He is dangerous in his own right - cruel, cunning, and scheming. He can administer a terrible torture without any apparent emotion, and shows no remorse. That is the sort of man who is particularly perilous to be associated with, and when he is under the leadership of an evil such as Lord Voldemort ....

I shuddered. I would rather do almost anything than go to Malfoy Manor, but I knew that not doing so would make Lucius suspicious. Doing that was one of the few things I would go to Malfoy Manor rather than do.

I Disapparated, reappearing just outside the grounds to the manor. The cold, oppressive gates loomed in front of me, manned of course. I inclined my head coldly to the gatekeeper, who wordlessly swung the massive ironwork inwards. I strode through the opening and hurried towards the house.

Malfoy Manor came slowly into view, as impressive yet threatening as the gates. The house was built centuries ago, and has been the ancestral home of the Malfoys ever since. Filled with secret passages and chambers, it is the perfect place for the practitioning of the Dark Arts; if you are sensitive to Dark magic, either through practising it or learning to recognise it, you can feel the evil aura of the place. It is magnificent, with intricate and expensive architecture, yet could never be called beautiful.

Even to those who are insensitive to such things, it still radiates a sort of negative feeling. It is difficult to define, or so I have been told by members of the Order of the Phoenix who have had occasion to approach the manor on a mission. I doubt even a Muggle could pass the place without being affected.

Yet the Ministry have never been able to notice that the place is obviously a home of Dark magic. Possibly that is because of the intangible nature of the evil on the unaware, or perhaps they choose to be blind, in order to remain in Lucius' favour.

He has an amazing power to make people become blind or deaf to little details like that. Probably because the only other option is often to be dead.

Lucius had been waiting for me, it was obvious. As soon as I had been shown in, he appeared silently in the room, a cold smile fixed upon his face. He greeted me with a cordial nod, which I returned, watching him carefully. With a wave of his hand he dismissed the servant who had brought me there, who bowed low and vanished through a door, out into the hallway.

"So," Lucius said slowly. "You have come." His tone indicated that I was late, and that he had, as I had feared, expected me immediately after the Death Eater meeting. That nasty smile still played across his lips. The most disconcerting thing about it was the fact that it never looked genuine; I had yet to see it reach those stony grey eyes.

"I had other business to attend to," I replied curtly, yet with a respectful inclination of the head. "I had business for our lord." I endeavoured to look contritely down at the floor, hands folded dutifully.

"Indeed." It was a statement, yet the hint of questioning in Lucius' tone was a warning to me.

"Following the movements of the Order of the Phoenix, sir."

"Ah, yes. You have always been very useful. Do you have any news of interest?" The smile flickered across his lips again. I was in dangerous territory.

"No. I believe they know that our lord is planning something, but what, they have no notion."

"Ah." The smile did not falter. This cold, formal interrogation was one of the reasons I despised going to Malfoy Manor, and despised Lucius himself.

I could tell he was thinking of something else, and the idea filled me with a sense of trepidation. He was going to test my loyalty. I had him almost convinced, but one final test ... I shuddered inwardly, and had to fight to prevent my unease showing.

"Tell me, you didn't happen to find out if Black and Lupin are returning to Oxford, did you?" There was a malicious sense of satisfaction behind Lucius' gaze as he studied me. I made sure not to falter, and standing at dutiful attention, replied quickly yet firmly.

"No. I do not know if they were doing anything."

"Shall we pay them a visit?" Lucius asked quietly. I watched the evil smile that was fixed upon his face, and heard the venom in his voice. He intended to kill them, or at the very least, take them to Lord Voldemort, if he found them at home.

Was there any way to warn them? No, it was impossible. I had no plausible excuse for slipping out of Lucius' sight for even a moment, and I could not contact them from within Malfoy Manor. Lucius was sure to have some way of tracking communications made from within his domain.

"Shall we?" he repeated, and the tone of his voice told me it would be death to refuse.

"We shall," I said softly, fighting to keep my voice from shaking. There was nothing I could do, except wait in agonising fear to see if they were at home.

* * *

We silently approached the old house in Oxford where Remus Lupin lived. There was no sign of habitation. No smoke rose from the chimney, no curtain twitched. Everything was still.

Lucius slunk up to the door, then opened it with a silent charm. I watched with trepidation as he entered, then a movement in my peripheral vision made me turn my head.

The black dog was watching me. I felt its cold, pale gaze upon my own, then looked back to the house. The dog seemed to understand my unspoken question, and shook its head. I sighed in relief, then shooed it away, raising my wand, in case Lucius was watching.

It got the message and hurried out of my sight, leaving me to follow Lucius. I knew it couldn't have gone far, and I was secretly glad, for fear of what I could be forced to do.

The inside of the house was dark. It was plain from a few minutes' looking, even without having been told, that no-one was at home. I made my way to the study, remembering how to get there from the few times I had been in the house. I knew that would be where I would find Lucius.

"Anything?" he asked me sharply as I entered. He was bent over Lupin's desk, going through the papers there with a malicious glint in his eye.

"Nothing. There's no-one here."

"Very well." Lucius straightened up, and the expression on his face made me catch my breath. I cursed myself silently, but he didn't seem to have noticed. Something had possessed him with rage, he would stop at nothing to bring Black and Lupin down. "Burn it."

I stared at him for a moment, knowing I had heard correctly, yet unable to quite believe it.

"Burn it?"

"Yes. Immediately."

I raised my wand hesitantly, wondering if perhaps I should question him as to whether he was following Lord Voldemort's wishes. The look on his face convinced me not to, however, and I waited for him to brush past me, then, silently thankful for the fact that Black in his Animagus form was lurking nearby, raised my wand.

"_Incendio!_"

I turned and followed Lucius from the house as the flames erupted behind me.

* * *

Lucius was clearly enraged that he had been unable to kill Lupin or Black. His pace was quick and sharp, and he strode into Malfoy Manor with a scowl on his face. I hovered uncertainly behind him, watching him carefully, to ensure I did not enrage him.

He swept away to his chambers, and I remained downstairs, unsure of exactly what to do. Eventually Narcissa appeared, greeting me graciously. I inclined my head politely to her, and she smiled. Hers was a far more genuine expression than her husband's, but I still did not feel at ease.

"Will you stay for dinner?" she asked in a regal tone, the generous hostess in every way.

"I wouldn't wish to intrude," I muttered, hoping fervently for an excuse to slip away.

"Oh, do stay."

I resigned myself to following her wishes, and we discussed insignificant matters for a few minutes, before she invited me to sit by the fire in a luxurious upstairs lounge room. I accepted, and Narcissa eventually departed, leaving me alone by the fire.

Lucius' study was easily accessible from the room. This would be the perfect opportunity to slip in and glean some valuable information. Lucius had retired to his chambers, and there had not been any sign of him reappearing. Survival and spying instincts raged within me for a moment, battling ferociously. The spying instincts proved victorious, and I silently slipped into the study.

I had been in there only a precious handful of times before, and always under Lucius' stony gaze. I knew that here, given only time, I could find the information the Order of the Phoenix would need to convict him, and maybe understand Lord Voldemort's plans.

I slipped past the elaborate wooden desk that was a central feature, and surveyed the bookshelves closely. I knew what I was looking for - his journal. He kept records of Dark activities written down somewhere, I knew it, and if I could just find it, we would have him.

"So," a cold voice whispered from behind me.

In that instant, I felt a paralysing, sickening fear sweep across my entire body, rooting me to the spot. I couldn't move; the ice running through my veins ensured it.

I slowly forced myself to face the voice, ordering each muscle to move in turn, until I stood, trembling, facing the doorway, where Lucius stood, fury written on every feature.

* * *


	3. The Flight

**Disclaimer:** I'm not, have not been, and never will be affiliated with the owners of Harry Potter. I am a poor student. They are: J. K. Rowling, AOL Time Warner, and various publishers, including but not limited to Bloomsbury Publishing Plc and Scholastic Books. I am making no money.

**Author's Note:** Sincerest thanks to Calliope, Elanor, and TQ as always. Special thanks to PJ Babington, Piper, Isabelita105, Cyris, Lynds, Morrighan, Duchess67, and Alanna for your help with the technical aspects of fight scenes, and to Werrf, Ara Kane, Catherine, Aevil, and Juliane for your help with the stylistic aspects of fight scenes. 

Part Three: The Flight 

Lucius took one step and blocked the doorway entirely, his presence seeming to fill the entire room, saying there could be no escape. He had been livid at his failure to destroy Black and Lupin, but his malevolent fury now was amplified ten times. I had seen the terrible power of Lucius's anger too many times to mistake it - I could see every sign I knew was a warning one of his compatriots had made a terrible mistake. Now, it was my mistake. And it was likely to be my fatal mistake.

"Would you care to explain this?" Lucius asked, his voice gentle, low, and poisonous.

But there was nothing to say. And even if I managed to lie well enough to fool him now ... my part was done. I could never spy again, for I had lost Lucius's trust. In one foolish moment, all I had done - both good and bad - since the nightmarish day I joined the Death Eaters had come down to one thing: nothing.

I stood facing him, amazing yet deceiving calm in my stance. My mind and heart were fluttering wildly, my thoughts flitting madly through my head, but I managed to prevent my body shaking as I took a small, trembling breath. I stepped back, leant on the wall, and crossed my arms. I shrugged, managing a small, insolent smile. It was no use pretending any more. Now I had to keep Lucius talking, not cursing me, while I attempted to escape. Somehow. And, I decided, I may as well make my feelings plain while I did.

"What is there to explain, Lucius?" I asked, astonished that my voice remained steady. It was the only part of me that was as it should be; my breathing was quick, soft, irregular, and my mind flew wildly from one insane idea to the next, scanning everything I knew for a way to escape.

Lucius watched me for a moment, his eyes narrowed, before replying to my words. "Betrayal, you ungrateful brat."

"You want me to explain betrayal?" I took a step closer to him, my eyes glaring sparks of hatred. "Whose betrayal, Lucius? Yours or mine? You offered to teach me things. You never told me you'd take my free will, my innocence - what little I had - or my _soul_." I spat the last word as I stepped forward. I felt my blood pound in my ears. I had struck a wild idea - wild, but perhaps possible. I had no better option. Most people would consider me a dead man already. And if this failed, I was.

"I gave you the chance to be a part of -"

"A part of what? Oh, I've heard all about this _marvellous_ campaign you're on. To clean the world of impure blood, isn't it? Would you believe, Lucius," I spat, taking a step towards him, "that I don't think it such a great, noble campaign. In fact, I think you are a cold-hearted, bloodthirsty murderer." Hatred oozed from my every word. My heart fluttered, my stomach twisted, and my breathing grew shallower, faster still. Everything depended on keeping him talking.

Lucius's jaw hardened; his eyes flashed with fury. He snatched his wand from within his robe, and with a noise thunderous to my nervous mind, ropes shot from the end of it and twisted around my wrists. That would complicate things. But not too much. With another flick of his hand, he had my wand.

_Good. Now he thinks I'm helpless_.

He waved his wand absently at the door, which slammed and locked. The noise was death knells if I lost my chance.

It was increasingly difficult to keep my mind clear. Panic was welling in the back of my head, threatening to spread and overwhelm me with hopelessness and wild fear. Lucius had my wand, my hands were tied, the door was locked. I knew too well what that meant if I ruined my only hope.

Lucius raised his wand again. I felt the panic strike as it spread, paralysing. I fought to regain control of my body.

"I gave you everything you have - your position -" Lucius began. Adrenalin pumping, I forced myself to move, to step towards him and speak.

I scoffed. "My position's something I'd rather be without, actually, if it's quite the same to you." _There's an understatement_.

"You ungrateful, treacherous little brat! You would be NOTHING," he roared, "NOTHING without what I've done for you!"

"I'd rather be _dead_ than what you've made me!"

"I can organise that!" Lucius raged, pointing his wand at me, stepping forward to strike. 

_NOW! MOVE!_

I met his advance with a quick, delicate footwork. As he began to scream the word "_Crucio_", I lashed out, my booted foot striking his hand in a flash of black. He shouted in pain and dropped wand. I felt another surge of adrenalin and the faintest flicker of hope. Part one of my wild escape plan had been easier than I could have imagined. Before he could recover from the shock he betrayed in his expression, I stepped forward and kicked again, low kicks so I could keep my balance._ Knees first._ He reeled under the attack and moved back, dazed. He couldn't have been expecting this; physical self-defence was a Muggle art.

Lucius was a powerful fighter. He had a strong build and was certainly not a small man. But he was used to totally overwhelming whomever he was fighting. He loved to attack those weaker than himself, and was happiest if he had weakened his opponent further with the Cruciatus Curse beforehand. He fought a coward's fight, and a bully's. He had attacked me before, and had got away with it, but he had never realised that was not because I couldn't defend myself, but because I hadn't wanted to reveal my skill. Now he was paying for that lack of foresight.

He was backing slowly away from me. I stepped forward again. He dodged, but my first attack had weakened him, and he moved slowly, his walk tentative and ungainly. I circled, and he turned, lunging for his wand, but he was so badly injured I reached it first. I stood over it, and he paused, glaring at me in shocked pain.

"I haven't even begun yet, Lucius. I will kick you into oblivion. You do know that, don't you?" He glanced towards the door, but without his wand there was no way he could open it, even if he managed to reach it before me in his weakened state. He backed away from me. "Coward. You could attack me before. Now you won't even face me." He moved away quicker at that, but a frenzied look over his shoulder told him he was about to run into the wall. I saw something I had never seen on his face before. His eyes were flicking wildly around the room, his mouth was tense, and sweat was glistening on his face. "Panicking, Lucius?" I whispered as I struck. He smacked into the wall at the force of my attack, moaning in pain. The relentless thudding of my feet hitting his body became a pattern, a steady rhythm. _Thud. Thud._ _Thud_. Pain showed on every feature of Lucius's face, but I didn't back down. Now was my chance. Now he would pay for all the pain and destruction he had so heartlessly inflicted on so many others. Pain. Death. Horror. _Thud. Thud. Thud._

There was an uncomfortable satisfaction in the way Lucius doubled up, finally sliding slowly to the floor. He lay motionless; the only sign of consciousness was his faint moans. _Smack_. A final kick saw his head hit the wall, knocking him out.

Now I had to move. I hurried back to his wand, took it clumsily in my tied hands, and muttered a spell to free myself. I took my wand from his pocket, and in a single motion snapped his, leaving the pieces on the floor. "_Alohomora!_"

The door swung open, and I slipped through, shutting it softly behind me. Now that I was out of the immediate danger of being trapped in the same room as a furious Lucius, I could give some thought to the wider scale: how to escape for good. I suppressed a shiver and attempted to walk normally through the manor, racking my mind once more for a way of escaping.

Fortunately, there was no one in sight. Narcissa did not sweep down the hall to ensure I kept my word and stayed to dinner. I managed to escape into the night. The air held a bitter bite. I shivered, this time with cold, and wrapped my cloak around me. I should have been tired from my effort in attacking Lucius, but the adrenalin had not died down. Nor did it seem likely to, for fresh panic was coursing through me. How could I escape? Where would I be safe? The Dark Arts have ways of tracking a person that other magic can never hope for.

I hurried from the grounds of Malfoy Manor, hoping to put as much space between Lucius and myself as possible. Once I had achieved that, I simply wandered with no real destination in mind, thinking desperately about my next move. Apparating would be foolish. To do so could leave me traceable using Dark magic. The Ministry of Magic could sense when an unlicensed person Apparated, and they only used light magic. If the Death Eaters had been alerted to my "treachery", they would be watching for me to make a magical move.

So, I couldn't Apparate. The nearest Muggle settlement and therefore transportation was some way away. And, I realised, I had no money to use for Muggle transportation. The nearest Floo connected fireplace not owned by the Malfoys was many kilometres north. I should have Apparated earlier; if the Death Eaters weren't looking for me, there was a chance that I could escape without being noticed. But it was too late. Someone might have found Lucius by now.

The only safe place for me, I thought frantically as I aimlessly wandered, was Hogwarts. But it was far too obvious, and I could not hide at Hogwarts forever. And the only way to get there was to broadcast my intentions to the Death Eaters. It was hopeless. There was nothing I could do. I may have escaped Lucius for now, but I could not hide forever. I could only hope to perhaps delay my discovery and death. Short of a miraculous rescue, I would surely die.

I trudged, despondent, through the night, not caring really whether I was going towards or away from settlement, not caring what direction I was moving in, not caring about anything. I was as good as dead. In the falling night, each shadow became a Death Eater, each rustle the sound of _Avada Kedavra_. Adrenalin fuelled paranoia, which in turn made adrenalin flow faster, so my fear heightened until I was thoroughly convinced that each moment would be my last. Finally, I sank to the ground. I could not escape my death that way, no more than I could escape the passage of time or the chill of the night. Panicking would do nothing. I breathed deeply. If I kept thinking, perhaps I could convince myself to find a means of escape. I _hoped_ I could convince myself to find a means of escape. And every step away from Malfoy Manor gave me more hope of avoiding Lucius until I could think of something. So I trudged through the night.

* * *

I think I knew then that there was no real escape. No matter how far I walked, you would find me. How you eventually did, Lucius, I don't know. Did you set your vicious beasts to follow my smell? Did you use Dark tracking that I have no understanding of? Not, I suppose, that it matters now.

Dark Arts healing is truly marvellous in what it can do; if I hadn't inflicted your wounds of yesterday myself, I would not know that you had been crumpled on your study floor, battered and unconscious such a short time ago. Foolish of me to leave you, but it is not in my nature to kill. Not even you.

And now comes the showdown. You managed to find someone who would give you their wand for the time, it seems, for you are armed. We pause a moment, then raise our wands, each wanting to be the one whose blow falls first. And yours comes a moment before mine. I fall screaming to the ground, knowing I have lost - lost everything.

***

The Order of the Phoenix never let a companion go missing without making some wild attempt to find them. Dark whispers of treachery had swept through the ranks of the Death Eaters when they met that night, and the Order's spies in had listened in horror, fearing the consequences of the whispers. They searched using all available resources and personnel, but found nothing.

It was the Head of the Aurors' Office who finally found him, in a desperate plea to the Muggle authorities. A Muggle taking a short cut had spotted the body it the woods The Ministry man looked on the dead, still face with anguish, for despite his cold exterior, the spy had been remarkable, willing to sacrifice everything for what he had believed in, and for the freedom of the wizarding world. And he had sacrificed everything. The Ministry official let a slow tear run the length of his face before turning to begin his journey to alert the Phoenixes that the circle had been broken.

***

_He was one of the unknown, unsung heroes of the war against Voldemort. For his entire life he lived under the assumptions of wizarding society, which questioned his every move, his every motive. He will never be remembered for who he was or what he did, but instead for what he stood for: the last member of an old, Dark Arts family. In the eyes of society, his name will never be linked with the good deeds he did. To them, he died just another Dark wizard. And so he will remain._


End file.
